Secret Agent Man
by PocketPamela
Summary: Mike understands, in theory, what a FBI undercover spy is supposed to do. Donna was going to have Bureau company, damnit. She hates working alone. She misses her partner, Mike. Fail!spies Mike & Donna take Pearson Hardman by storm.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys, it's yet another new story from me. I bet y'all love that. It's for a fill on the suitsmeme, asking for a crack!fic with Mike and Donna as fail spies.

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><p>Mike understood, in theory, what a FBI undercover spy was supposed to do. They were supposed to blend in, be unnoticeable. And get the job done. (They also could very well get a few chicks in the process.) Mike understood, yes, but he also knew that life was too short to actually be boring.<p>

He decided to spice things up a little.

When Donna, his badass partner, got assigned undercover at Pearson Hardman, he was a bit bummed. Why had the Boss chosen her to do something fun? But, never fear, Mike persevered.

Two months after he had been without his flaming-haired beauty, he got a notice in his mailbox: the Boss had assigned him to duty with Donna, searching for someone who was smuggling information about the inner-workings of the American government and financials to the Chinese.

The Boss didn't mention how he was going to get a job at Pearson Hardman.

That was a mistake.

Geniuses like Michael Ross were not to be left alone to their own devices. Point being: Mike Ross, ordered to Donna's side, faked being a pot-head and drug-runner to get his undercover position. Because why not have fun with it?

It's not like he could actually be arrested. He was an FBI agent!

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><p>Donna was lonely. Sure, she was surrounded by pretty cool people, but she missed her puppy-like partner. She wasn't supposed to have contact with the Bureau after being assigned unless necessary, seeing as the bad people could trace her movements if they wanted to.<p>

Her boss, a man named Harvey Specter, wasn't too bad. He viewed her as a goddess, and paid for all these ridiculous things she requested. It was great. But like she said, it was lonely.

She had her eyes on a few culprits, but nothing concrete. She knew how long these undercover missions could go on for. Screwing with a rodent-looking man named Louis was very fun, screwing with most Possibles was always fun, but she wasn't too sure he was smart enough to actually consistently smuggle information to the Chinese.

After two months, she was sick of it. She was going to have Bureau company, goddamnit, not stuck up men in ugly suits and trust fund babies.

She was alerted that yes, in fact, she would be receiving a partner, no_, she could __**not **__actually live in a Bat Cave for the duration of this mission. The Bureau couldn't renovate any basement to make it look like that. No, she could not, ever, drive a car that looks like the Batmobile, it wouldn't be conspicuous, at all. Under no circumstances was she allowed to dress up like Batman, or Catwoman, or any other superhero-she was an undercover agent in the Bureau, this wasn't a movie._

Goddamn FBI.

When Mike stumbled into an interview she was holding for her 'boss' dressed up in a ratty suit, carrying a briefcase of pot, she almost started crying. _She had missed her puppy._

That's when the fun began.

They fell into a routine of work-work-work-eat-work-analyze suspects. It was hard work, eating all this rich people food, doing work. Donna was sure that if she wasn't absolutely _running_ her temporary boss's life, she'd be bored to tears. Being Harvey's God didn't fully occupy her attention, though, and sometimes, if she was well and truly _bored to tears_she'd start crying to throw Louis off. Harvey would buy her shoes afterwards, and she loves shoes.

Working for the Bureau was good.

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><p>Well, it was good, until the Bureau sent both Mike and Donna messages, telling them to <em>hurry the fuck up<em>with their spying.

Donna huffed indignantly after reading her letter. She wasn't working fast enough for the Bureau, was she? Well, she'd show them.

Mike had a similar, but more embarrassing, response. He hadn't waited to read his letter upon its arrival, and instead opened it in the cubicle-farm. The associates avoided his desk after he stood up, pushed his chair away, and yelled, "THIS IS BULLSHIT! I AM GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU AMERICA, _I AM!_"

Nevertheless, Mike and Donna live to serve their country, so they spend the rest of the night debating on how shit should go down. Obviously the information smuggler is too smart to allow Mike and Donna's superb on-the-side-analysis to get him.

It was time for Plan B. They needed to find the perpetrator, and fast. Screw their undercover jobs at Pearson Hardman; they were spies and they were going to show it, damnit. The smuggler will be shaking in their boots after seeing them go all out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! Im so glad you like this.**

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><p>Mike and Donna show up the next day in all black.<p>

Donna does it stylishly: she has black stilettos (that Harvey paid for), black skinny jeans, and a tight wrap sweater. She's also wearing a black leather jacket, because who says only men can be badass when they were them? She'd a woman spy and she can do what she wants! The jacket makes her look more intimidating, which is what she's aiming for. The smuggler would be stupid to not give himself up after seeing her no-nonsense look.

Mike's always been a bit fashionably challenged, as he decides to wear a large black trench coat like a ridiculous 'inconspicuous' informant. It looks good on him. He's wearing a turtleneck underneath it-this is New York City and it's winter, it gets cold-and plain black slacks. Donna upon seeing him facepalms, giggling, and then tries to contain herself.

"Mike," she says after a while, all seriousness, "they're going to notice our hair, and our cover will be blown. We're spies now! We can't be recognized." With that, she hands him a beanie and sunglasses.

"I understand the hair aspect of it, but why sunglasses?" Mike asks, pouting as he shoves the beanie atop his head.

"Mike, darling, your eyes are a beautiful blue, but right now, we can't have that. They're as noticeable as my red hair. I know, we don't have to like it, but we're doing this for our country."

They finish putting on their gear outside of Pearson Hardman, before walking in, with stoic faces. The only sounds between them are the faint hums of "America, Fuck Yeah!" It's their theme song. They hum it whenever they're on a real mission.

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><p>The only upside to Mike's large trench coat is that it hides all their spy-supplies quite well.<p>

They're sliding against the walls towards the paralegal offices. After a heated, whispered argument in the elevator, they decided that the fastest way to gain information would be to ease-drop on the always gossiping paralegals.

They've decided to split up, cover more ground in less time, and Mike is excited, because he's just gotten new walkie talkies. These babies clip onto your pants which fascinates Mike to no end, so he insists on using them. Donna wouldn't normally do something so kiddish, seeing as she's a sophisticated woman, but she indulges Mike, because his puppy eyes are just too adorable to turn down.

So yes, the trench coat hides the walkie talkies he's carrying for both of them, so they don't look so conspicuous. It also has a million pockets inside of it-"Mike, where did you buy this thing?" - "Oh, Donna, there was a nice man but he was running away from someone with a gun! He was wearing it, and I complimented it, so he gave it to me. It had bags of this weird stuff in it, but I threw them out."-which hold mini notepads, a multitude of pens in many colors, signal-hankies, and extra pairs of sunglasses. Their phones, fancy government issued ones, have tape recorders that assist in eavesdropping. It all adds up, and if he had a regular jacket, he'd look like he's packing. But with the trench coat, they're totally conspicuous, and the information smuggler doesn't stand a chance

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><p>Harvey Specter would like to know what the fuck was going on. His associate and Donna had always had a weird relationship, they talked with their eyes and made references no one else understood and talked about a 'Bossman.' They were both incredibly patriotic; on the last Fourth of July, Harvey remembers seeing them both dressed up in all red-white-and-blue, and saying the words "America" and "Fuck yeah!" at the end of almost every sentence.<p>

All the associates (and most of the partners) thought that Mike and Donna were just 'those' pricks who flaunt their inside jokes. The whole, 'we're friends and we're better than you, here, watch us laugh in synchronization' annoyed most everyone, including Louis. Harvey enjoyed watching Donna and Mike though, they were so together in everything, and it was like watching his old self and Scotty, in freshman year, at least. Before the competitiveness of law school got in the way, Scotty and him were the best damn people on campus, and no one could screw with them, because they would get more than they could give.

It made Harvey proud, his associate, his assistant, and himself were Pearson Hardman's dream team: always moving smoothly, instinctively knowing what needed to be done.

But right now? He had no clue what the hell was going on. Donna wasn't at her desk, Mike wasn't at his desk, and there were some weird people in garb traipsing the halls. And he was all alone.

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><p><strong>Review! with ideas, or anything else you'd like! :)<strong>


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